


Duscur Rose

by dango96



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, Falling In Love, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, First Kiss, M/M, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24260863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dango96/pseuds/dango96
Summary: Lorenz finds himself catching feelings for a certain Duscur man, and questioning the true meaning of nobility.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	Duscur Rose

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be a kink meme prompt fill, then it turned into kind of a character exploration of Blue Lions Lorenz, then a SFW ficlet. Please enjoy! This pairing is growing on me.

Lorenz had always held him in his heart, that mysterious Duscur man, even in their school days.

He knew well the Tragedy, of course. Knew the fate of his people, the crime that had brought them to that fate. Everyone knew. It was the source of glares in every corridor, every classroom.

But witnessing Dedue in the kitchen late at night, volunteering his time, making meals for the peasants lining up in the dining hall... those glares had seemed utterly _unjust_.

He'd always wondered how such a kind man could live up to those stories of senseless violence. Lorenz had been taught that all of Duscur's people were mindless brutes, but Dedue could not have seemed farther from such a description.

After all, giving back to the commonfolk, doing selfless acts without asking anything in return... well. He seemed downright _noble_. In fact, he acted more like Lorenz's idea of a noble than most nobles he'd known.

 _Chivalrous_. That was the word. Though Dedue stood out among his peers, most of them Faerghus-born and of crest-bearing blood, they had all seemed rather devoted to the idea of chivalry. And Dedue looked to be the most chivalrous of them all.

So when their professor had beckoned him to the side of the Blue Lions, Lorenz found he didn't entirely mind the concept of becoming one. He'd already began to witness the corruption of his peers and idols, the way they used "nobility" as an excuse to lord themselves over others.

 _Perhaps,_ he'd thought, _the ideal of nobility I've been chasing is closer to a knight's chivalry._

And the way Dedue had smiled at him kindly upon introducing himself to his peers, the smallest gesture making his heart flutter - well, that was just a lovely bonus, wasn't it?

It was those very thoughts that had led Lorenz to defect to Dimitri's side, early in the war. And though he'd pledged allegiance, had knelt in front of him and said his oath... his eyes had continuously wandered from his new king's face to the silent titan beside him, and his serene, near-imperceptible smile.

* * *

But far too early, their king had fallen. And Dedue, with him - or so they'd said.

A strange sense of loss and melancholy permeated Lorenz, for those long five years. He mourned Dedue far more than Dimitri, despite barely knowing the man in comparison.

Indeed, he'd hardly known Dedue at all. But - _but._

He had _wanted_ to. And that was the tragedy of it.

He'd spent five years disgraced, powerless, forced to crawl back to his father to ensure his own safety. Forced to grovel for forgiveness, trusted with nothing due to his prior fealty to the Kingdom. Made ornamental, with the promise that he might still inherit his lands if he played nice and married a powerful noblewoman. Played his _part_.

Finally, after enough time, he was allowed something more than tea parties and polite correspondence, but Lorenz's stomach dropped as the task was given to him. The great bridge of Myrddin was to be sieged by remnants of a Faerghus rebellion army. And he was to help quash them.

The small "Faerghus rebellion army" had turned out to be most of his old classmates, led by Dimitri - alive. And beside him, their professor - alive.

And if that shock alone hadn't been enough for Lorenz's poor heart, onto the battlefield came Dedue - _alive_.

He'd thrown down his lance, rode as fast as he could away from the shocked forces behind him that he was supposed to lead. This - this was where he belonged, fighting alongside his friends. Not stuck in some gilded cage, writing cloying letters to noblewomen for their hand in marriage.

"My King," Lorenz cried, dismounting his horse. He flinched not at the bows and swords pointed in his direction - he fell to one knee, bowing as deeply as he could muster. "I would once again fight in your service, if you would have me."

But when he lifted his head, he did not seek out Dimitri's cold gaze. He found himself instead searching for Dedue's eyes once more - and found them smiling back at him.

* * *

Unfortunately, their King was in no position to make war plans.

In quiet hours and lonely meeting rooms, Lorenz's keen knowledge of Gloucester territory - and more broadly, the Alliance - came in handy. He found himself most often accompanied by Dedue or the Professor, occasionally Gilbert. He was no tactician, but he'd been trained for it early on, groomed to be leader of the Alliance. That alone made him more qualified than most of their peers.

He did not mind it. In fact, he began to look forward to it with a sort of nervous excitement. It was the only time he'd spent alone with Dedue, that mysterious man he'd spent years of his life wondering about, despite their shared house.

And one such sleepless night, it was once again just the two of them. Dedue, his armor put away for the evening, clad in a loose shirt and his scarf. Lorenz, similarly shed of his ornate plate, dressed down to a dress shirt and comfortable pants.

The candle was burning low, but they'd yet to come up with a concrete plan for their next movement. And neither man was the sort to easily give up.

"These lords, last that I was aware, are still sympathetic to the Empire." Lorenz stretched himself over the war table, placed two slender fingers on the map. "My father did his best to keep information from me, but I was able to intercept letters, on occasion. I could not open them without raising suspicion, but I saw many letters with their house's seals."

Dedue held his chin for a moment, pondering. His fingers framed the many scars on his face, and for a moment, Lorenz thought it looked rather handsome.

"That would corroborate reports we've had from the area," he finally agreed, the low timbre of his voice making Lorenz _shiver_. "It would be foolish to risk traveling through their territory."

Dedue paused thoughtfully, then looked up at him.

"Lorenz. May I ask you something?"

Lorenz froze, pinned like an insect by his gaze. He felt heat rush unbidden to his cheeks, and cursed his body for its trespasses.

He'd known for some time what this feeling was, but could still not bring himself to look at it, nor put words to it. There were so many things _wrong_ with it. A man - two men, together, a birthless union - one noble, one commoner. And of course, the scandal of a Duscur man...

But he'd thrown away his nobility already, hadn't he? Had forsaken his birthright for _chivalry_. Had freed himself from obligation. And Dedue - Dedue, Dedue, Dedue...

"Lorenz?"

Dedue, Lorenz suddenly realized, had been staring at him for a minute or two, watching him stand there dumbly while blushing up to the tips of his ears.

"I apologize," Dedue spoke before Lorenz had the chance to scrape his thoughts off the floor, looking away. "I am aware of the effect I have on people. I did not mean to frighten you. I thought - perhaps, that you were unaffected, but I see that -"

"No!" Lorenz finally squeaked, the sheer indignance and volume startling Dedue back into silence. Lorenz seized upon the opportunity, scrambling to defend himself. "I- I was merely lost in thought, my dear friend. I am not frightened by you in the slightest!"

Though he looked a bit disarmed by the sudden enthusiasm, a small smile returned to Dedue's lips, and Lorenz felt his heart flutter against his ribs at the sight of it. Still, Dedue did not look at him, and the way his eyes lingered on the table seemed almost... _bashful_.

"I was wondering," Dedue spoke, this time with a softness to his voice, "about that. Why you... do _not_ seem frightened."

"Pardon?"

"You are a noble." He stated it as if it were plain fact - even though for all intents and purposes, Lorenz had lost his nobility. But then, he supposed, the trappings of it were still burnt into him, the standards and decorum. "You look at me differently than your peers. You are kind, despite the danger."

"I hardly see the danger in being kind," Lorenz frowned, feeling some of his boldness return. He found himself moving closer, as if drawn in by some magnetism.

Dedue's smile suddenly vanished, and Lorenz mourned its loss deeply.

"I am from Duscur," he stated, emotionless, as if he'd rehearsed the same words countless times. "If you become too close to me, people will talk."

Lorenz felt himself _scoff_.

"A noble who fails to do the right thing because he fears damage to his _reputation_ ," Lorenz spat, now close enough to put a hand on Dedue's arm, "isn't very noble at all."

He felt the muscles underneath his fingers flex slightly, firm and unyielding. Lorenz, himself, had never been one to put on muscle, willingly or not - his body simply didn't accommodate it. This feeling, he realized, was not one of envy, but of awe - and something more.

A thrill ran up his spine at the thought of being embraced by those muscles. Held, protected. And he dearly wished to protect Dedue in return, somehow. Perhaps it was the noble in him once again.

"Then," Dedue murmured, turning his head to look at him again - rendering Lorenz acutely aware of the sudden lack of distance between them. "You believe being close to me is the right thing?"

This close, he could make out the individual flecks of sea green in Dedue's eyes, the pale etchings of scar tissue over his lips. The _softness_ of his lips. He'd expected them to look rougher, drier.

"Yes," Lorenz uttered, feeling his pulse picking up. He could no longer tell if they were talking about physical distance or metaphorical, and hardly cared. Something about this situation was intoxicating, and making it harder for him to think. "Dedue, I..."

His trembling fingers ran further up Dedue's arm, under his shirt, over his bicep. Dedue's eyes widened, dilated near-imperceptibly.

"I should like nothing more than to be close to you," he breathed.

The words hung in the air, stagnant and silent. Lorenz could feel his heart pounding in his neck hard enough that he feared it might stop altogether.

Then, slowly, carefully, as if putting something into its rightful place, Dedue inclined his head just so - and ghosted their lips against each other.

_Oh._

It was everything he'd imagined his first kiss to be. Lorenz felt himself _ache_ for it, closing his eyes and leaning in, his other hand brushing against Dedue's on the war table.

His lips truly were soft. Wet, warm. Gentle, unassuming. Wanting, but not pressuring. A perfect gentleman, as Lorenz had always imagined him to be. More noble than he'd ever been in his life.

It seemed to last for hours, and at the same time, not nearly long enough. When Dedue drew back from him, it was with lips flushed, pupils wide, and it made Lorenz rather want to kiss him more.

In the candlelight, Lorenz thought, Dedue was not just handsome - he was _beautiful_.

"You're a strange noble," Dedue murmured. "The strangest yet, I think."

"According to my father, I'm a noble no longer," Lorenz countered, smiling defiantly, feeling giddy with the excitement and impropriety of it all. "And I shall do what I please."

"If it pleases you," Dedue smiled in return, "I heard you enjoy tea. I would like to have some with you tomorrow."

Lorenz felt himself positively _brighten_. "Of course! I shall pick only the finest from my collection! Though it's a bit depleted in wartime - oh, but I may have a blend that would suit your palate, if you prefer herbs from the north..."

And as Lorenz prattled on about tea blends and their origins, describing ones with herbs native to the Duscur region, Dedue's smile only grew.

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed my work!


End file.
